


the strangest that i've seen.

by dearelizaa



Category: The Yogscast, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Kissing, M/M, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearelizaa/pseuds/dearelizaa
Summary: “Trott. Trott, no one’s going to touch you again,” the kelpie promised, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. His arms settled warmly around Trott, hesitant where they touched the battered skin. “Ever again. I’ll fucking tear them apart.”A collection of Urban Magic Yogs stories.
Relationships: Alex Smith/Chris Trott, Ross Hornby/Alex Smith, Ross Hornby/Alex Smith/Chris Trott, Ross Hornby/Chris Lovasz/Alex Smith/Chris Trott, Ross Hornby/Chris Trott
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. knee socks.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of these years ago, but I think it's about time I shared them. Endless thanks to [threeplusfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/pseuds/threeplusfire).
> 
> And because I'm incurably nostalgic, have a new [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3sRNHpxEqVSBdCZsgO1LaZ?si=SbgpeUM_R9qIz4l2ItbJMg) as well.
> 
> Title: [the stranger - lord huron](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FeoxGl75Tg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by [knee socks by arctic monkeys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyO-Sveg6a8).

Smith paused at the sight laid out before him - Trott was curled in the windowsill, quiet, watching the rainstorm that ravaged the city outside. He was wearing the thigh high socks Ross had found for him the week before (blue and dotted with walrus faces), cotton shorts, and one of Smith’s old, ragged t-shirts. A mug of coffee balanced in his lap. 

The selkie started as a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, then lifted a hand to hold onto one of Smith’s forearms. “Hello, sunshine,” he murmured. 

“H’llo.” Smith nuzzled into his hair, pressing himself closer. Trott sighed and leaned back into him, closing his eyes. “What’re you looking at? There’s nothing out there,” the kelpie asked, lifting his head. 

“Nothing. The rain, I guess. Where’s Sips?”

“Asleep. He was out late with his bowling mates again. I swear, Trott, if he...” Trott could practically hear the roll of Smith’s eyes, knowing that the kelpie got restless when their king stayed away too long. 

“-Trott.” The selkie looked up, realizing he’d spaced out again. Smith was looking at him now, inquisitive. “You alright, mate?”

Trott tipped his head back and nuzzled against Smith’s jaw, and smiled. “Yeah. I’m great, sunshine.”


	2. put your trust in me (i'm not gonna die alone).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title: [putting the dog to sleep - the antlers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOnkcgCr0tc).

Trott stiffened as he felt the bed dip behind him, but he forced himself to relax - he was safe, he reminded himself, even with an angry Smith at his back. Or maybe especially then.

“Found a flat,” the kelpie grunted, collapsing on the hard mattress. Trott raised his head slightly, fingers going still on the knife and bloodstained v-neck in his lap, having removed the shirt to use as a rag. He could feel Smith’s eyes on the back of his neck. 

“Bit small, but we should be able to afford it, ‘tween the two of us.” 

Silence, and no sign of their shouting match of barely an hour ago rearing its head. It had been about something inane, he could hardly even remember, but he was _tired_. He heard Smith roll over, sit up, and he sighed as warm fingers brushed the nape of his neck, his hair, then moved down to squeeze his shoulder. They’d done this before; it was easy, perhaps the only part of this that  _ was _ easy. As long as he didn’t have to think about what it meant.

Smith’s fingers paused as they curved around his shoulder blade, hesitating for a second before moving gingerly to his lower back, tracing the jagged line carved into his skin.

Trott went rigid and flinched, almost violent in his haste to duck away. “Get the  _ fuck _ off me,” he gritted out, letting the knife fall to the carpet as he snatched his skin from the foot of the bed, dragging it over his shoulders to hide the scar. Clutching handfuls of soft fur to his chest, he braced himself for a fight. 

It didn’t come, and wouldn’t, he realized as Smith’s gaze dug into his back. He heard the kelpie get to his feet, and the silence was deafening as Smith struggled for words. “Trott - what the  _ fuck _ happened to you?”

And that right there - the genuine concern in his voice - Trott was certain it would destroy him. 

He turned and stared up at Smith, sure that his surprise was showing in his eyes, but he didn’t much care. He didn’t  _ understand  _ this - didn’t understand the way Smith seemed to  _ care _ for him, the way he felt so  _ safe _ around him. Didn’t understand how Smith could cause such a warmth in his chest and a heat in his stomach just by  _ looking _ at him. 

“It - It was when I - left,” he faltered, his low voice barely audible. Smith stepped forward carefully, reaching out to entwine their fingers. Trott blinked and stared up into the kelpie’s eyes, and thought it was strange, that these little things still managed to shock him. His voice steadied, growing dull. “It was - it was one of my brothers, I think. I didn’t stay to find out.” He could see Smith’s mind working, and he dropped his gaze, trying to pull his hand away. The kelpie wouldn’t let him. 

“They tried to stop you. They tried to destroy your skin,” Smith finished, anger finally spilling into his roughened voice and the fingers gripping Trott’s. It made Trott shudder, lurching forward to bury his face in Smith’s chest. His hands were shaking, but thankfully, Smith didn’t comment. 

“Trottimus -”

“Don’t call me that. That’s not my fucking name.” The  _ anymore _ was left unsaid, blown away as if by the warm breeze from the motel window. 

“ _Trott_. Trott, no one’s going to touch you again,” the kelpie promised, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. His arms settled warmly around Trott, hesitant where they touched the battered skin. “Ever again. I’ll fucking tear them apart.” 

It startled a laugh out of Trott as he finally allowed himself to relax, rubbing at his eyes. “I believe you, mate,” he breathed out, surprising even himself.


	3. sea salt.

Trott held tightly to Smith’s hands, guiding him in deeper, further from the beach and the open air. Smith’s fingers tightened around the selkie’s, enough to be painful, but Trott squeezed gently in response. “We can stop,” he murmured, his voice echoing strangely and setting Smith’s head to spinning. Smith blinked at him for a second, looking into Trott’s dark eyes, too familiar not to trust. He shook his head definitively. 

Trott grinned and pulled him downward again, this time only for a moment before their feet met soft sand. “Let me know when you need to breathe, sunshine,” he said, waiting for Smith’s nod. 

-

The sea was cold and wonderfully open, and Trott let his eyes close as he _breathed, _slow and deep. The saltwater sank into him, washing away the grime from the city. Purifying. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this.__

____

__

____

Slowly, he let his eyes drift open, settling on the kelpie in front of him. Smith had his head tipped back, a slow trail of bubbles leaving his mouth as he watched a school of tiny yellow fish dancing above them. His hair was wild, catching the fractured light, his eyes vividly green and wide. Trott watched him, enjoying the warmth in his chest and in his fingertips. 

-

Moments later, Smith registered Trott squeezing his fingers gently, something tightening in his stomach as he turned back to him. Trott was smiling at him with so much care and happiness, the light playing over his face in a way that made Smith want to kiss every inch of him. He hadn’t once let go of Smith’s hands. 

The kelpie turned his face upward again, watching as a turtle passed over their heads, huge and jade-green. This was where Trott had come from, what he had given up. He’d said there was nothing left for him in the sea, but he had brought Smith here, and he looked so happy.

He looked like he had _everything_. 

Looking back at Trott and jerking his chin upward, the kelpie gave a little smirk, knowing the selkie would know what he meant - _hell of a view, isn’t it?_

Trott snorted and entwined their fingers, not once looking away from his face. “The sea’s got nothing on you, sunshine,” he drawled. 

Smith’s eyes widened, and he grinned, listening to the selkie’s quiet laugh as Smith pulled him closer. 

The saltwater burned on his tongue as they kissed, and it tasted of home. 


	4. hardly catch my breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes out to [desirecomes-desirefades](https://desirecomes-desirefades.tumblr.com), whose [beautiful art](https://desirecomes-desirefades.tumblr.com/post/139308328876/dance-with-me-until-the-lights-go-out-music-to) inspired this chapter.

Smith was shouting Trott’s name before he’d even crashed over the threshold, his grin bright and feral - though edged with joy and exhilaration rather than bloodlust. The rain pounded the window panes with a ferocity. 

“I was waiting for _you_ , sunshine,” the selkie laughed, patting his cheek playfully as he rushed past him and down the stairs. Smith followed him with a whoop, leaving the rest of their court staring after them, dumbfounded. 

“ _Shit,_ these water fae,” Sips said after a pause. Ross twisted around to look up at him, blue eyes wide with incredulity that anyone would want to be out in the rain. The mortal king just shook his head, fingers sliding into the gargoyle’s hair. “They never stop surprising me, I’ll give them that.”

-

In the empty street, Trott tipped his head back, eyes closing as he faced the downpour with a slow grin. The water was cold and refreshing, invigorating in a totally different way that the ocean was invigorating - or maybe that was just Smith, draping himself over Trott’s back with a cheerfully growled insult after his lap up and down the street. Trott snorted and turned in his grasp, shivering as a stray drop of water slid down his spine. Smith’s hands slid into his back pockets, and Trott tugged him down by the collar for a kiss. 

Smith laughed into his mouth, and the rain was almost as sweet. 


End file.
